


Seeds

by elo_elo



Series: The Woods [5]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Humor, Pregnancy, SO MUCH FLUFF, Small town politics, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, but like almost none of it can you believe that?, time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elo_elo/pseuds/elo_elo
Summary: Joni learns something unexpected. Pelican Town tries to keep its cool.This is the fifth part of a larger series and probably won't make much sense if you don't read the others first.
Relationships: Abigail/Leah (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: The Woods [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405675
Comments: 29
Kudos: 98





	1. Joni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much to the eternal chagrin of my job, friends, and other writing projects…I’m back. This is gonna be a little different than the stuff I have done previously in this series. I wanted to take a big life event and play with the perspectives of the characters I’ve grown to really care about (and many I haven’t written from the perspective of before). I really hope you enjoy it <3\. If you couldn’t tell, I’m pretty nervous lol.

If there’s one thing Leah can’t do, it’s cook quietly. Even through the closed door of Leah’s bathroom, Joni can hear her banging around in the kitchen; pots clanging against pots, cutlery jingling as they’re thrown into the base of the sink. Joni’s got a headache. Probably from how hard she’s been clenching her teeth. The banging isn’t helping.

She rests her elbows on her knees, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She’s been on the toilet for so long her legs are going numb. She’s gonna be sitting on it for at least three more minutes. That’s what side of the box promised, anyway. The other two tests took about that long. Joni sniffs, tries to look anywhere but at the piece of plastic clenched between her fingers.

The bathroom’s hot. They’ve been in the thick of the dog days of summer for about a week now. The air dense and humid, bees buzzing lazily over the tops of flowers, their fuzz heavy with the gold of sticky pollen. Joni’s skin feels a little sticky too. This bathroom doesn’t have any windows, no ventilation. Joni’s almost positive this room used to be a closet before the artists who founded the colony retrofitted it back in the seventies. A loud knock on the front door nearly sends Joni tumbling from the toilet seat. “Leah?” She calls through the door. “Is that Abigail?” No answer. Joni squirms on the seat. “Fucking shit. The last thing I need is Abigail telling the whole town before I even know if-“

The front door opens. She hears a hushed conversation, then the soft swish of it closing. Joni listens to Leah’s footsteps as she crosses the cabin. Her voice is right outside the door when she speaks. “Just one of the new artists dropping off some paperwork.” A beat of silence. “I told Abi I was busy today. Figured you might want some…privacy.”

Joni looks down at the floor. “Thanks.”

Leah clears her throat. “What’s the third one say?”

Joni sniffs, still bouncing her knees. She looks at the test, sees another line forming, then looks quickly away. “Still waiting.”

“Can I come in?” 

Joni looks up at the door, hesitates. She glances over at the two used tests sitting beside the sink. The bathroom feels like a cocoon, like if she opens the seal of that closed door then…Joni doesn’t know what. “Sure.” Leah slides in, the slightly off scent of resin following her in. Her smock is tucked haphazardly in a pair of jean overalls, her feet bare, a few specks of dried paint on her toes. Leah plucks the test from between Joni’s fingers. “That’s covered in my piss.”

Leah waves her off, raises an eyebrow when she looks at the test. “This one’s positive too.” 

Joni clasps her hands between her knees. Her chest feels full, but she’s not sure with what feeling. “I know.”

Leah bites down on her lower lip, bouncing once on the balls of her feet, then looks over at Joni still sitting on the toilet. “This is just…” The corner of her mouth ticks up, “kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Her face falls immediately. She clears her throat. “Shit, I mean I haven’t even asked you how you feel.”

Joni reaches out and takes the test from Leah. She looks at it, at the dark pink line and the fainter one beside it. “We didn’t plan this”

Leah shifts on her feet. “To be fair, you didn’t _not_ plan this.”

That _is_ fair. True even. Joni stopped taking the pill a couple months ago. It had been a joke. Sort of. Something they’d laughed about after a couple beers and a joint. _What if we had a kid?_ A playful thing.

Sort of an erotic thing too. As embarrassing as that is to admit. Joni loves when Sebastian cums inside her, always has. It feels sort of humiliating to think about in the light of day, but when she’s spread out before him, their sheets disheveled under her, there’s nothing hotter than Sebastian pressing his fingers inside her, wet with his own cum. One night, a few months ago, he’d smeared it up along her belly. Eyes thoughtful, a little distant. _One day we’ll have to do something with all this, huh?_ And then he’d recoiled, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But Joni had just kissed him, an almost indescribable feeling washing over her. Longing maybe or…who knows, but the feeling had almost overwhelmed her. They’d gone to sleep with a heaviness hanging between them.

After that, they’d skirted around it. _We’re financially stable_ , Sebastian said over coffee one morning, apropos of nothing. _Yeah, definitely,_ Joni agreed, taking a hurried bite of toast.

One afternoon, while she was out tending her plot of sunflowers, the early summer sun beating down on her bare shoulders, she thought, staring out down toward the river, how nice a place like this would be for a kid. The thought jolted her, overwhelming fear settling inside of her, and then that soft longing again. _It was nice for us as kids,_ Sebastian said that night over dinner when she told him about what she’d thought. And so it goes. And so here she is. “Joni.” She nearly jumps off the toilet. Leah is crouched in front of her now, eyes serious. “Joni. We can handle this.”

Joni wipes herself, pulling her shorts back up around her waist. She heads over to the sink to wash off her hands. “I know.”

Leah’s full on pacing now, filling the room. “I’m not sure if Harvey’s clinic is equipped for abortions, but I drove one of the artists down at the colony to a Planned Parenthood a couple towns over two weeks ago. They were great. Super friendly, not even that many protestors out front.”

Joni looks at herself in the mirror. Her eyes look bright. She looks, somehow, unafraid. “Thanks…I just…” Her hand drifts unconsciously to her stomach “I don’t think I want that.” She looks back at Leah, trying to read her face. She releases her stomach, suddenly self-conscious of the way she’s holding it. “I mean you’re right. We didn’t _not_ plan this. I mean…I guess both of us knew this could happen eventually. We weren’t using any protection.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to keep it. Just because you sort of let it happen doesn’t mean you have to want it.”

“But I do.” It comes out of her mouth before it even reaches her brain. Joni frowns, looking from her stomach to Leah. “I don’t feel like I’m even old enough to make a decision like this.”

At that Leah laughs and Joni can’t help but laugh with her. “You’re almost thirty, bud.”

Joni’s laugh is breathy. “ _Fuck_.”

Leah hesitates for a moment, then pulls Joni into a tight hug. “Holy fucking Yoba. I can’t even…” She holds her at arm's length, “I don’t even know what to say to you.” A broad smile breaks across her face and then, like it’s contagious, cross Joni’s. Joni’s hand drifts again to her stomach. It feels warm, but that must just be in her head. She feels, uncannily, like she’s standing on the precipice of a cliff. A rush of fear but something breathless, propelling her closer to the edge. She looks up at Leah, eyes wide. “Should I take another test?” 

Leah snorts, releasing her. “You’ve taken three, dude. I think we can comfortably say you're knocked up." Joni makes a sound that's a cross between a wheeze and a laugh. "Besides soup’s almost on.”

Joni scoffs. “What do you mean, _almost on_. You’re making gazpacho.”

Leah levels a finger at her. “Testy. Maybe you’ll get no soup at all.” She pauses at the door, reaches over to squeeze Joni’s shoulder, then disappears back toward the kitchen, leaving Joni alone in the bathroom. She turns again to face the mirror. Her freckles have darkened under the summer sun, her hair lighter from it too. There’s a glint in her eyes. Something she doesn’t really recognize. Fear has settled tightly in her chest, but something else. Something as melancholy as it is sweet. Funny almost. That there should be a tiny clump of potential, a spark of life, in a body that had tried so hard for so long to die. Yoba, that had been almost six years ago now. That awful morning, that long stay behind the walls of a hospital. That first blinding brightness she’d had to shield her eyes from when she stepped off the bus. It feels like a lifetime and yet sometimes, some mornings when she wakes up with heavy limbs and fog settled over her brain, it doesn’t feel that far away at all. She doesn’t feel that way now. Joy, that’s what she’s feeling. A tepid joy, a fearful joy, but joy all the same. A miracle, to be here at all. A gift. To be alive to make any decision at all. Joni rests her hand on her stomach. It’s flat still. The same as it’s always been. She brushes her fingers just below her belly button, searching. For what, she’s not sure. She thinks of Sebastian, of his wide hand resting where hers is and that soft feeling swells. Joni looks back up at the mirror. Her heart pounds in her chest. “Holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know pregnancy stuff is not everyone’s cup of tea (hell, it’s usually not even mine), so if that’s the case with you feel free to just pretend this part of the series does not exist lol. I’m not going to deal with late pregnancy or birth or any of that etc etc because…well, I’m not. Sorry. Or you’re welcome. Depending on your sensibilities lol. I don’t know how frequently this will be updated. If you’ve followed me at all you know I’m a pretty impulsive writer, but I am working on other fics and also a non-fic manuscript so updates may be a little inconsistent.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading <3


	2. Sebastian

Sebastian’s got the radio on. TLC and Pearl Jam on a loop. Summery sounds; beats he’s tapping against his desk, the ash from his lit cigarette in a pile beside his keyboard. He’s got the window open too. Can hear the whir of bees, smell the sugared scent of the flowers that have drawn them there. Cornflowers, if he remembers right. Joni planted a whole swath of them around the farmhouse late that spring. They’re up to his waist now, their thin stems swaying from the weight of their heavy globed flowers. He can see the tops of some of them from behind his desktop. Pops of orange and blue and yellow peeking just above the windowsill. 

Sebastian chews the end of his pencil, takes a long drag from the cigarette in his other hand. He’s untangling a problem with their code, just off a conference call with Aaron, turning now to his old standby of pen and paper, smoking his way through a pack as the afternoon sun settles golden across the farm, skitters across the wood floorboards. It’s going slowly. He taps ash into his ashtray before taking another long drag. Leah made it; it’s in the shape of a cock. Sort of abstract, but not really. She’s been going through her phallus phase lately. Lewis has been less than pleased. Sebastian smiles at the thought, remembering the statue she made for the flower dance, the way Lewis had turned tomato red. He takes another drag, then turns back to the problem at hand. Frustrating though it may be, he’s figuring it out, slowly chipping away. But it’s slow going. He’s not all that focused. Because part of him, a distracted little hum at the front of his brain, is waiting for Joni. 

She’s usually home by now. When the sun starts to get golden and low like this, he knows that soon she’ll be coming in through the door, kicking off her boots, humming a melody he’s never quite been able to quite put his finger on. She’ll smell like soil, a little like flowers; she’ll have dirt caked under her fingernails. And he’ll follow her to the bathroom, both of them meandering as they talk about their days. He’ll watch her as she’ll scrub at her nails. Little lavender buds coming loose from the bar of soap she’s been using lately. A gift from Emily. The hall closet is full of them. A hundred different scents, sage and mandarin and hemp, tracing the jumpy evolutions of Emily’s ever-shifting interest. It’s all part of his internal clock now and so when Sebastian stands to lower his desk blinds, the sun now low enough in the sky that it’s starting to hurt his eyes, he pauses. Blind cord still wrapped around his wrist, he turns to face the front door. The room feels almost eerily empty now. Light refracting from one window to the other, the sun printed geometric on the whorled wood. Goose pads across the floor from the kitchen and lets out a grumpy yowl before disappearing into the bedroom. Sebastian sniffs, ashing one cigarette and lighting another. He blows the smoke out one corner of his mouth. He plops back down on his chair, eyes not leaving the door. It’s fine, probably. More than likely. _Definitely,_ he tells himself. She might have run into town to pick up some food, or maybe something for her stomach. It’s been acting up lately, especially in the morning. Two days ago, he’d sat beside her on the bathroom floor as she retched into the toilet. He’d held a cool washcloth to the back of her neck, brushed her hair from her face, rubbed her back. It had cleared up by late morning. Something she ate, they’d decided. Or stress.

Stress more likely. It’s been a tough few months for her, he knows that, a downswing in her anxiety that they have both acknowledged, both tried to make room for. The anniversary of that night with Elliot had passed quietly, but he knows sleep has been fleeting lately for her. Wakes up sometimes to find her staring at the ceiling, hands folded over her heart, the moonlight spilling over her. Sometimes she’s the one who wakes him, hands grabbing blindly for him, eyes hazy. Those nights he holds her close, those nights he feels a special kind of rage. Both useless and frightening. It’s easy to channel it instead into concern. Fear now that the sun is slipping steadily toward the treeline and she is still isn’t home, hasn’t called.

And so it’s a relief when the front door creaks slowly open, Joni slipping inside. But the relief is fleeting. She jumps when she sees him, her hair practically standing on end. Sebastian frowns. She’s stopped just at the end of the couch, standing like a scolded kid, straight as a pin, hands clasped in front of her. Sebastian stands, reaches behind him to ash his cigarette. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Her eyes dart around the room and she seems to realize that she’s holding herself, releases her hands, lets them hang at her sides. It doesn’t make him feel less uneasy.

Sebastian purses his lips and pushes off his chair, taking a couple steps toward her. Goose has reemerged from the bedroom, stands at the base of Sebastian’s desk, watching them both, uncharacteristically quiet. “What’s up?” He watches her take a deep breath through her nose. He cocks his head. “Joni?”

She straightens up even more, hurriedly wiping a strand of hair from her forehead. “Yep. I just uh…nothing much up. What about you?” Joni stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jeans, rocks back on her heels.

Sebastian’s heart is pounding just under his jaw. The light has taken on an almost parched quality. Too bright. “Are you…okay?”

“Yep.” Her mouth is so tight the word comes out strange. Goose meows, walking over. He circles her ankles, giving them a curious sniff. Apparently suddenly interested, he gets up at his hind legs, batting at her. Joni looks down at him with a horror so out of place, Sebastian closes the distance between them.

“Joni.” He cocks his head to try and meet her eyes, watches as they waver from his gaze. “Seriously. Are you okay?”

Joni sniffs, taking a couple steps back. “Yeah. I’m just…tired.”

Sebastian stays rooted in place. He wants to reach out, wants to wrap his arms around her, but something keeps him still. “Do you need anything?”

Joni shakes her head, mouth still tight. “I’m just going to take a shower, I think. Wash the day off.”

He takes a deep breath, takes a couple steps back. Goose is sitting between their feet, eyes darting from Sebastian to Joni and back. “Okay.” He clears his throat. “Sounds good.” Joni nods, padding off toward the bathroom. Sebastian watches as she takes down her hair, watches it fall golden down her back. She’s only feet away and yet she seems completely beyond his reach. Sebastian knows this feeling. He’s felt it before. That sweltering summer day when he’d run, when he’d watched her close the farmhouse door, watched her disappear inside. Sebastian reaches down to pick Goose up. He yowls in protest but settles once Sebastian starts to rock him. The weight is tranquilizing. He listens to Joni start the shower. He takes a deep breath.

Joni seems a little more settled after her shower. She’s pulled her hair up into a bun, loose strands curling around her neck, put on a clean pair of jeans. She looks scrubbed down, less tense, and his own shoulders unclench. “Why don’t we get some takeout from the Saloon?” She slips her hands into her pockets. “It’s a nice night.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sebastian looks at her again. She’s not really meeting his eyes but offers a slight smile when she catches him looking. He feels a twinge in his chest but says nothing, following her out into the thick summer air.

The sky is pink with summer sunset. The air has cooled some, but not much, heat still rising from the sunbaked cobblestones of the town square. Joni borrowed one of Gus’ old scratchy blankets and she’s spread it out on the dirt among Evelyn’s tomato plants in the community garden. They’re heavy with heirlooms, dark stems bending under the weight. He’s always liked the way tomato leaves smell, that herbaceous kick He knows Joni likes it too, and he watches now as she runs her fingers over one of them. Sebastian leans back, takes a bite of garlic bread, and resists the urge to light a cigarette. The trill of a mockingbird cuts through the quiet of the evening air. He glances again over at Joni. She’s been picking at her food, spaghetti left mostly untouched. More than once tonight she’s lost track of their conversation, just drifting off, looking out at the town. Away from him. He’s quickly losing his appetite, a whirling panic starting up inside of him. Maybe Joni can sense it. She probably can. They’ve known each other so long now, have been through so much. She glances over at him, blanches when they make eye contact. He can see her working her jaw, see that there’s a weight to the words she’s about to say. He feels terrified like a little boy, sits up straighter, so he can look her full on. She takes a deep breath, he holds his.

“Are you breaking up with me?” “I’m pregnant.” They both freeze. “What?” They say together. A breeze rustles Joni’s hair, a few strands brushing across her face.

Joni clears her throat. She pulls her crossed legs closer to her body, sitting up higher. “You thought I was breaking up with you?”

Sebastian exhales. “Yeah, I mean,” he musses his hair, shaking his head, “I guess…” Sebastian swallows, frowning. His thoughts have come spinning back to life. He looks up at her. “Wait.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Did you say that you’re pregnant?” There’s a look on her face that stills everything inside of him. It’s fear. And something else. Something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Everything that had been churning inside of him comes crashing to a halt. “Did you just find out? How long have you…” Joni sniffs, looks away. He notices, a strange, protective feeling surging suddenly through him, that she’s resting her hand on her stomach. “ _Joni.”_

She shakes her head, shrugging weakly, and he can tell that she is trying to fight back tears. He reaches out to grab her hand and she lets him take it, squeezes his fingers. “I found out this morning. At Leah’s.”

He pulls her bodily to him, kisses her hard, doesn’t really know what else to do. She reaches up to hold his face in her hands, their bodies tangled awkwardly, clinging to each other in the garden. When they break apart, Sebastian just looks at her. The sky is still livid with evening color, it shimmers around her, refracting across her skin, the waves of her hair. His heart pounds, thoughts racing so quickly he can barely take hold of them and it’s only when Joni reaches up to brush her fingers across her cheek that he realizes he’s started to cry. Quietly. Lightly. He takes her hand, kisses her palm. “Holy Yoba.” He wipes at his eyes, laughing. “Are you really pregnant?”

Her eyes waver, glancing over at the Saloon, away from him, then back. He squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Pretty positive.”

The smile that breaks across his face echoes timidly on hers. “Oh my god.” He leans toward her, pressing their foreheads together, relieved some when her smile grows. “Holy Yoba. This is so …oh my god. Oh my god. Holy shit.” He hears her sharp exhale, leans back to get a better look at her face. It’s softened a little, that fear.

“Is that a good holy shit or a-“

“Good.” He laughs, brushing his hair from his forehead. “Very good. I’m…shit, I’m happy.” She exhales on a laugh. He can feel the tension bleeding out of her and just the act of it makes him frown, makes him reach for her. “Did you…did you think I would be mad.” She wipes at her eyes, tears flowing freely now down her cheeks. Sebastian wipes one away with his thumb, sets his other on her shoulder, leans down so they’re face to face. “Joni, why would I be mad?” She shakes her head, still wiping at her cheeks. Sebastian doesn’t need her to answer. He knows. Maybe not exactly, but after all these years Sebastian knows the shape of her fears. Their thorny contours. He leans over and kisses her on one corner of her mouth. “I’m thrilled.”

Joni looks up at him. “Are you seriously?”

“Yes, Yoba, yes I’m fucking. Holy shit.” He squeezes her arms. “Fuck. Wow.” Sebastian leans down, his face resting in the crook of her neck. He feels her hands drift up his arms, feels her pull him closer. Sebastian leans in; he holds her tight. 

They’re sitting on the porch watching the fireflies bob through summer’s half-darkness. They’d come home hours ago and, not sure what else to do, just stayed outside, sitting on the top step, drinking some of the iced tea Leah made a few days before. And they’re not really talking, but the silence between them isn’t all that heavy.

It’s the same day it was when Sebastian woke up, the same house he woke up in, but things feel fundamentally rearranged. _He_ feels fundamentally rearranged. There’s a warmth inside of him, panic too but the panic feels soft. Almost nothing. Sure, he feels a little like he’s about to walk off a cliff, but Joni’s beside him, walking off that same cliff. And he’s sure, certain almost, that whatever’s at the bottom is something he wants to discover, something he wants to see. He glances over at her, finds her looking out at the farm. Finds something peaceful about the look on her face. It’s good to see it. Peace on her face. Sebastian smiles, leaning to fish in his back pocket for a cigarette. He nearly lights it, the cigarette caught in his teeth, before he pauses. “Wait…I…probably shouldn’t smoke around you right.”

Joni looks owlishly up at him. “Oh Yoba. I hadn’t thought of that.” They just stare at each other for a moment, then he tucks the lighter back into his pocket and takes the cigarette from his teeth. “Just go around back?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Nah I should probably quit anyway.” There’s a look on her face. He’s seen it before, a long time ago. Saw it flash in her eyes as they stepped together toward the hospital, and, briefly, horribly, in the moment when he left her, one hand on his bike, the other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, wanting nothing more than to reach out to her. A look like she knows that what she is doing now can’t be undone, like she is walking off a cliff. “We don’t have to do this Joni.” She goes absolutely rigid, brows knitting. “We don’t have to. It’s early. We can take care of it. Fuck everybody else if they don’t like it.”

She leans back away, from him, brows furrowed. Sebastian wavers. “Is that what you want?” Her voice is clipped.

“I care about what _you_ want.”

“I want this.” She answers quickly, then looks hard at him. The steadiness in her voice fills him with that same warmth that had risen up sitting there in the community garden. “I want this, Sebastian.” Joni frowns, hand pressing harder onto her stomach. “Don’t you?”

Sebastian reaches for her, tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I want this so bad I don’t even know what to do with myself.” There’s a beat of silence before what he’s said seems to dawn on her. And then, she exhales, every muscle in her body going slack. And then, she kisses him. He kisses back hard, pulls her onto him, hands tight around her.

“I’m scared.” She whispers in his ear when they break apart. But she’s smiling. “I’m scared shitless.”

Sebastian laughs. “Me too. Holy shit, me too. But,” He holds her hand, squeezes it, “we’ve got each other. Hell,” He waves abstractly toward the farm, “we got this whole fucking town.” Joni laughs, nodding. Sebastian exhales, relief coursing through him, and then a thought dawns on him, hits him like a train. “Holy Yoba, my mom is gonna lost her mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, these are real weirdo times in the world right now. I hope that you're all safe and healthy and doing your best to stay sane and I hope that reading this story can give you the same brief moment of escape it gave me to write it.  
> As always, thank you so much for reading <3


	3. Robin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Surprise! I've updated this after, man, for fucking ever. I think updates are still gonna be really, really slow on this but I haven’t forgotten about it :)

She looks like her mother. Robin’s never thought about it before, not really. But now, standing beside her, with the sun from through the kitchen curtains spilling over her shoulders, Robin sees it. Joni really is the spitting image of her mother. 

Her hair was the first thing Robin ever noticed about Ruby-Anne. So long it skimmed her hips. Braided in places, left loose in others. Dotted with flowers. Like something out of _Life_ magazine. _Hooligans make trouble at Woodstock Music Festival. Locals complain._ A flower crown, Robin remembers now, she’d been wearing a flower crown too on that first meeting. Lilies hanging low beside her eyes. And she’d padded across the cobblestones of the town square, mud on her bare feet and the hem of her long dress. _Far out_ , she’d said, or _groovy,_ or some other thing that made Robin tense from the top of her head to her toes.

Robin glances again beside her. Joni keeps her hair just below her collarbone, but it has that same wild, airy quality. She has the same sort of dreamy eyes that her mother does, Joni’s just a twinge sharper, just a little more worn out than Ruby-Anne’s had been. Robin’s sure, as sure as she’s ever been, that these were the things that drew Sebastian to her. That little bit of wildness. Joni smiles softly to herself, like she’s thinking of something nice. Robin hopes she is. Yoba knows the girl deserves it.

Joni passes her a plate, a wren calls from the low hanging bow just outside the kitchen window. It’s looping trill cutting through the comfortable quiet in front of the sink. They never knew each other well, she and Ruby-Anne. Cut from different cloth as her granddad would say. New Age-y. On Different paths, even though they were in the same places. Both with young children, both carving out their lives in this tiny town. Joni’s parents hadn’t been married though. Robin remembers being tickled by that. Softly scandalized. Joni’s father held a May Day celebration one year. When Sebastian was just getting the hang of walking and Joni was still just crawling. He’d invited the whole town, a lot of his friends from the music scene back in Zuzu. It was the kind of party Pelican Town wasn’t ready for, probably still isn’t. But she remembers Alexei, in his coveralls, dirt still caked under his fingers, watching from the sidelines with a patient pride that made her so furiously jealous she could barely contain it.

“You seem deep in thought.” Joni takes a plate from Robin, starts in with the drying.

Robin smiles, dunking a glass in the sink’s suds. “Lot to think about.” Joni chuckles, a hand drifting briefly over her stomach. She’d invited Joni for lunch, and only Joni, making mushroom casserole to be sure that Sebastian wouldn’t even think about popping in. And she could tell, even from the porch as Joni swung out of Sebastian’s old truck, that she’s got that look. One Robin knows all too well, so familiar she can feel the echoes of it inside herself. Expectation. Nerves. Robin passes her another dish. “Terrible to have your first trimester in the summer.”

Joni cocks her head, her eyes widening just a touch. “Oh yeah?”

“Definitely. Had that with Seb. It’s hot and you’re sick and your body’s doing all kinds of strange growing. Sour luck. But,” Robin passes her another glass. Joni turns to starting drying it, back to the counter, the soft gold of the afternoon sun turning a little pink as it filters through the gingham curtains Demetrius put up on the windows last fall. “It’s worst having the last trimester in the summer. Had that with Maru. You’re big as a house then. Sore all hell. Better to have that in the winter like you’re gonna.”

Joni laughs. “So if they’re both sour luck, then…”

“Pregnancy is hell,” She pats Joni on the shoulder, “and it’s also pretty special.”

Yeah, Joni really does look like her. Spitting image for sure, Robin decides as they drink lemonade side by side on the back deck. The adirondacks aren’t getting much use anymore. What with Maru off at school, Sebastian on the farm now. They might be getting a lot more soon, though, Robin thinks, a rare spark of delight settling in her chest. A few drowsy bees bob along the tops of her dahlias near the porch. One of them drifts a little too close to Joni and Robin watches her wriggle her nose, bat softly at it with her palm. Robin isn’t sure how, but she remembers that Ruby-Anne used to do the same thing. Twitch her nose when she found something funny, or strange. Her eyes nearly disappearing when she smiles big and bright, just like Joni.

They were the same age, she and Joni’s mom, or at least close to it. But Robin always felt older. Marred by grief maybe. For her parents and, maybe, for a future grief. One for Sebastian’s father that she could just taste on the wind. Her grandpa used to tell her she had a touch of clairvoyance. _That’s why you’re such a serious child._ Maybe Joni does too. How awful it had been the day she heard about Ruby-Anne’s death. They’d moved back to the city a few years before, lost what little touch the two families had. But word had traveled fast, and Robin sat that night on her porch steps, trying to imagine that sunshine-y woman knotting a noose. Yoba, how badly she’d wanted to see Joni that day. Had held Sebastian so tightly. Too tightly until her little boy had squirmed away, already full of his own darkness, already sorting through his own lessons too early learned.

She’d written a letter to Joni’s dad. _They might be a good source of strength for each other._ Something like that, regurgitating some of the sunny platitudes she’d learned at the women’s grief group that Granny Evelyn used to drive her to two towns over. He’d never responded. It hadn’t exactly surprised her. He lived mostly in Ruby-Anne’s shadow. She can remember his long hair and bare feet. The music he played way too loud through the window of his car as they drove slow through town. and the has he smoked. His gentle eyes. The memory of those eyes had been the only thing that kept her from really pushing the subject of Joni with Alexei. It was hard to to imagine him shattered by grief, hard not to imagine another letter ripping open a wound. Silly now, she thinks. The wound was, of course, all too open. Probably still is. Robin regrets not writing it. Robin stands, her joints creaking a little as she does. Middle age has snuck up on her, but it doesn’t fit as bad she always thought it might. Fits easy, really, comfortable. “I’m gonna get us some more lemonade.” Joni nods, looking almost drowsy in her chair. 

Robin sets a fresh glass down beside Joni. She looks like she could drift off, her hands folded at the base of her ribs, legs stretched out. And there’s something nice about that. About having a place where someone can find a little respite, a little peace. Robin figures she’s just returning the favor, having Joni here. Letting her rest her head here when Alexei has let Robin rest her head back at the farmhouse all those years ago. Let Sebastian run and shout. Kept him busy, let him fill his mind with something other than the dark hang of grief that no matter how many times she rearranged the furniture or opened all the window stayed stuck in their house. Alexei use to talk all the time – splashing a little whiskey in their coffee with a wink as the sun would sink outside the farmhouse, Sebastian still playing out in the grass – about cycles of life. Death and birth and sadness and joy. A farmer’s wisdom, really, an old man’s. From the corner of her eye, Robin sees Joni’s hand drift again to her stomach. Sebastian had been beet red when he told her. Clutching his knees as he sat like a little kid. She’d known something big was up when he insisted on seeing her in person, not telling her his news over the phone. Surprise is not something Robin lets into her life and she hadn’t been surprised by this news either. But she had, at least quietly, been surprised when her long line of a son had stood up and wrapped his arms around her like a little boy. She and Sebastian had spent weeks together last fall. Going over blueprints and woodworking designs for the farmhouse. She’d eavesdropped, just a little, when he’d duck out to take a phone call on the kitchen phone. Cord wrapped tightly around his arm. His voice had kind of serious, professional cadence she’d never heard on him. And then, when he’d get off the phone, when Joni would come inside form her work on the farm, a honeyed gravel sweetness. Her sullen, angry, brilliant little boy. Now a father, just about. It’s easy to think of Sebastian’s father, his memory has always come easy, that familiar pain, so much softer now than it used to be but always there. He would have been beaming. Would have whipped out a bottle of ouzo so fast, clapped Sebastian hard on the back. Robin makes a mental note to pick up a bottle next time she makes her way a little closer to the city. Not to make a big production, but just something nice. Something traditional. “It’s a beautiful day.” Joni’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a dream. And Robin remembers that too. The weight of it, carrying a person inside of you, but there’s an almost mystical feeling too. Smells become different, the filter of the light. A special, private thing. Just between you and the person inside of you. You feel, if maybe only for a moment, connected so deeply to the rhythms of the earth. She has a glow about her. And Robin is so glad to see it, remembers the first time she saw Joni all those years later. That freckled little girl with a big smile now a shell of a woman. A husk that had come back to life, sowing her own seeds, tilling the earth of herself here in the soil where her mother was laid to rest. And that second winter, when she could have become a shell again.

Robin doesn’t think often of Elliot, though her thoughts drift sometimes when she walks near the beach. She hadn’t really gotten the story on that, just small town whispers, and Robin figures it isn’t really her business. Wasn’t then, isn’t now. But she _had_ come to the hospital that morning, a few blankets from the house tucked under her arm. And what she remembers maybe most is Leah standing guard outside the hospital. Practically frothing at the mouth. A bulldog, a solid wall. Good to have a woman like that in your corner. “So then,” Joni glances over at her, raising an eyebrow. “does this mean Leah’s going to be an aunt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading <3


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